


the moments between the thunder and the flash

by itsabirditsaplaneitsmediocrefanfics



Series: south park superhero au [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff and Angst, Multi, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabirditsaplaneitsmediocrefanfics/pseuds/itsabirditsaplaneitsmediocrefanfics
Summary: “Well, okay. Where to start? Do you remember when we were kids - before the accident, before the universe got twisted - when we played superheroes? Do you remember how we all had that big fight about… I don’t even remember.” Kyle waved his hand. “Yada, yada, yada, we split up in two groups and had a civil war.”“Yeah, I guess. I remember Wendy playing.”“It’s like that except…”“Except?”It's bad enough Cthulhu and the Coon are working together, but now Kenny's soul is being eaten away, Craig and Tweek are in the middle of a messy divorce and custody battle, Butters has turned to a seedy night life for comfort, a soon-to-be-father Stan has fallen off the wagon again, Clyde is getting in the middle of some dark magic mess, Timmy is missing, and Kyle and Bebe are just trying to fix it all before it's too late.A superhero AU told mostly through Kyle, Bebe, and Tweek's point of viewViolence is a given, and there will be light smut.I've decided to make this a multi-chapter story.





	1. Send you my love on a wire

**Author's Note:**

> It'll get worse before it gets better, but I promise there's happy endings for some in the end :)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

_Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when_

_Our common goal was waiting for the world to end_

_Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend_

_You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again_

_— **“Black Sheep”, Metric**_

Kyle leaned his head back, sighing deeply. “It’s a mess, Bebe. It’s such a fucking mess.”

“So, tell me again, what this is all about?” 

Kyle shot her a look. 

“Off the record, of course,” she grinned, pushing a long, curly strand of blonde hair behind her ear. 

“You know that phrase is legally binding, right?” Kyle raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want this to end up on the 6 o’ clock news.” 

“Of course I fucking know that. Come on, just tell me what’s going on. Clyde... hasn’t really been around lately.” Bebe’s face darkened, and Kyle was reminded once again the heartbreak the Coon had stirred up for everyone. 

“Well, okay. Where to start? Do you remember when we were kids - before the accident, before the universe got twisted - when we played superheroes? Do you remember how we all had that big fight about… I don’t even remember.” Kyle waved his hand. “Yada, yada, yada, we split up in two groups and had a civil war.” 

“Yeah, I guess. I remember Wendy playing.” 

“It’s like that except…” “Except?” 

_Kyle looks up at Tweek, who sits across from him in his office’s big leather chair. His eyes are red, and he’s paler than usual. They’ve been so busy lately Kyle hasn’t seen Tweek in civilian clothing and without his mask in a long time._

_“A divorce? Listen, first of all, it’d be a conflict of interest to represent you,” Kyle rubs his eyes, tired of seeing all of his friends break apart in front of him. He feels sick - he can’t wrap his mind around the thought of Tweek and Craig, together for almost twenty years now, ending their much-celebrated marriage. But he knows that’s not even the worst part. “Second, you have a child together now. What about Tucker?”_

_Tweek jerks, a tick Kyle hasn’t seen crop up in a long time. “I want custody of him. Full custody.”_

_“Tweek.” Kyle realizes immediately the unprofessional tone in his voice. “You can’t take Tucker away from Craig. You leaving him will destroy him, I… I don’t even want to think about what’ll happen if you take the baby away from him.”_

_“Don’t look at me like that,” Tweek snaps, suddenly breaking into sobs. “I know it’s fucked up. And I swear to God, if you mention any of this - any of this - to your … team, and put my son in danger, I’ll end you, Kyle.” Webs of frost blossom on the arms of the chair._

_Kyle holds up his hands in retreat. “Hey, now. It’ll be okay. What we talk about is between you and me. Quite honestly, I’m fucking tired of this whole ordeal. I’m not judging you, Tweek, I guess I’m just wondering… why?”_

_Tweek hiccups. “He- he knows how I feel about the Coon and Cthulhu and we both fought against Cartman’s coup d'etat - we both did! And the moment they win, he turns around and joins them, like the fucking villain he’s always been - no offense. I didn’t leave him. He left me, Kyle. Craig keeps telling me he knows what he’s doing and I should just trust him - if I truly loved him, I would trust him,” Tweek says, his sobs overwhelming him. His voice gets quiet and he leans in, suddenly fierce. “But you know what, Kyle?” Tweek’s figure - which had grown lithe and beautiful over the years - starts to shake. “I know what the Coon is up to, and I will be damned if I let my baby be his sacrifice to Cthulhu. That’s what Mysterion has been saying - you all want your own immortal, so the Coon is going to do what Kenny’s parents did to him.”_

_Kyle shook his head vehemently. “No, Tweek, I would never do that-”_

_“I know,” Tweek whispers, leaning back in his seat. The fierceness is drained from him. “I still trust you, Kyle, because I know you’re good to the core. But I think the Coon is up to something darker and more horrible than we can imagine. Listen, I love Clyde, I do, but he’s a fucking idiot. So is Scott - and Jimmy is just too wrapped up in fame to listen to me. And Craig - I know he’s too fucking smart for this, which is why I don’t buy he doesn’t know what’s going_ _on. But you - I think you know something is up, and you’re sticking around to make sure the Coon doesn’t get too far. At least, that’s what Mysterion says.”_

_Kyle stays silent for a second before he clears his throat. “Listen, Myst- Kenny isn’t right in the head anymore, Tweek. I wouldn’t listen to what he says. In fact, I’ve been advising him - well, was before he cut ties with me - to seek professional help, but… I have not seen or heard anything,” Kyle pauses, filtering his words as to not betray the unspoken rule of confidentiality of team meetings, “that supports Mysterion’s theories.”_

_Tweek’s large hazel eyes close, and he nods numbly. Kyle knows Tweek has had his own battle with mental illness, and he can’t imagine how exhausting this ordeal had been for him. Kyle gets up, walking around his desk to take his old friend’s hand. “I can’t represent you. I’ll refer you to one of my partners, but Tweek - I really don’t want you to do this. I really, really want you to think through this first.”_

_Tweek stands up and sways. Kyle catches him, suddenly aware the last time he was this physically close to Tweek had been when they had a fling a few years back when he and Craig went through an open relationship phase. Kyle blushes and steps back._

_“I love him so much, Kyle. I still love him with every fiber of my being,” Tweek whimpers, starting to cry again. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”_

_Kyle forgets his earlier embarrassment and embraces him. “Hey, it’s not the end. We’ll all get through this.”_   

Bebe whistled. “Holy shit. And did he do it?” 

“Yup,” Kyle said, his shoulders slumping. “He officially filed the paperwork last week. Packed his shit up, grabbed Tucker, and moved in with Token.” 

“And is Craig okay?” Bebe asked, her eyes watering at the demise of her close friends’ marriage. 

“Oh god, no.” Kyle rolled his eyes. Craig always had a penchant for violence and a mean streak a mile wide, even when they were small kids, and when he and Tweek fought, he only got angrier. This was that on steroids - Kyle had watched Super Craig crush a gang member’s wind pipe with his own hands the night before. No wonder Tweek was terrified of him. 

“He switches from caustic and quiet, to destroying everything in his path. It’s like his heartbreak has made him even stronger.” 

“Oh,” Bebe shuddered. “That’s a scary thought. What about the others? What I do know is Clyde misses everyone terribly. But he’s just so sure the Coon is a good guy. He keeps saying that… the Coon is going to fulfill a wish of his? I don’t understand, Kyle, but I’m scared. And the fact Timmy disappeared. Listen, I've been looking into it, and I can't find a trace of him. Kyle, do you think the Coon-" 

Kyle raised his hand to stop her. "Bebe, you should stay out of it. Believe me, you don't want to be wrapped up in this." 

“What about your friends? You and Stan and Kenny? I mean, obviously they aren’t talking to Eric, but… Wendy told me Stan fell off the wagon,” Bebe said quietly, looking up at Kyle. 

“He sure fucking did. Right on his god damn ass. I went and visited their apartment the other day. I felt so bad for Wendy. He and I are… okay.”  

_Kyle and Wendy exchange looks. She’s four months along, and she puts a hand on her stomach subconsciously._

_Stan closes the cabinet door too loudly. He’s in desperate need of a shave, and his high cheekbones are flushed red._

_“I just came to check up on you both. We… We’re still best friends. Right? I miss you guys, a lot.” Kyle can feel his words slipping through the air._

_Stan takes a long drink from a whisky glass and slams it down on an expertly crafted counter. “It’s cool, dude.”_

_Something tells Kyle it isn’t okay. “I can feel your emotions, you know that, right?”_

_Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, what use is it to fight over all this? I don’t get it, I really don’t, Kyle. But once again, you’ve chosen Cartman over me.”_

_“I’m not choosing Cartman over you. I.. can’t help it.”_

_“I know,” Stan shrugs, already pouring himself another. “That’s why it’s okay.”_   

“Hm.” Bebe stretches her mouth into a thin line. “And what about Kenny? And Butters? What is he up to? I haven’t heard from him in forever.” 

“Kenny… isn’t the same, Bebe. It’s like he doesn’t exist. He’s been replaced by Mysterion,” Kyle hissed. “It’s like the darkness has eaten through him. I miss him. I miss funny and sweet Kenny.” 

“How’s Karen taking all of this?” Bebe asked sadly, her heart breaking more and more through this lunch with Kyle. 

Kyle sighed. “She came to see me, too.”  

_The woman standing in front of him is no longer the pigtailed girl from the past. She didn’t get Kenny’s height, but she did get his overwhelmingly large blue eyes, almond and sweet. It tugs at something painful in Kyle’s heart._

_“He doesn’t sleep anymore. He hardly eats. He just … I don’t know disappears for days at a time.” Karen wipes tears from her face. “Butters is a mess. He goes out every night doing, god knows what…”_

_Henrietta rubs her back. “She came to me, but I thought you’d be better counsel for this,” Henrietta says. Kyle thinks for a minute the witch is actually a pretty good person._

_“Well, it’s obvious Cthulhu has eaten away at his soul.” Kyle rubs his temples. “But I don’t know what to do about it.”_

_“Me either. Like, nothing I’ve researched says anything good about releasing souls from Cthulhu.” Henrietta takes a drag._

_They both look at each other pointedly. Karen quiets and with great trepidation asks, “What… what does it say?”_

_“That we’ll have to kill Kenny once and for all,” says a voice from the other side of Kyle’s metal gate. It opens on it’s own and Butters walks up onto the patio. His sweet face is worn, and he smells like cigarettes and someone else’s cologne._   

Kyle and Bebe good naturedly hook arms like children, weaving their way down the sidewalk. 

“What’re we going to do?” Bebe asked, shaking her head. Her nice heels click against the pavement. 

“Listen, if you keep an eye on Clyde, I’ll take care of everyone else. And maybe call Tweek. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. But stay out of the Timmy shit, Bebe. I hate it as much as you do, but some things are better left alone.” 

Bebe shook her head, and Kyle knew she wasn't going to take his advice. “Do you think.. Do you think it’s safe to suggest him taking Craig back?” 

Kyle took a deep breath. “Craig would never lay a hand on Tweek - at least outside of battle. And I know he’d never hurt that child.” 

“If you say so. Okay, I’ll try and handle Clyde. I’ll use my feminine wiles.” Bebe wiggled her eyebrows. 

Kyle laughed. “Leave it to you to cheer me up through this bullshit.”


	2. And do not leave a trace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the way I am going to crush all of ya'll's hearts at the end of this chapter, but I promise - there's always a storm before the sun :) I mean, nothing is strong enough to completely destroy Creek, right? Not even Cthulhu or the Coon? RIGHT?!
> 
> Poor Kyle, man.

_I'm only waiting for the proper time to tell you_

_That it's impossible to get along with you_

_It's hard to look you in the face when we are talking_

_So it helps to have a mirror in the room_

_\- "There's No Home for You Here", **The White Stripes** _

 

_“Fuck,” Kite sputters, spitting blood onto the cracked floor._

_“Are you okay, man?” Mosquito’s voice is muffled by his mask, and he and Toolshed lift Kite up, despite their own injuries._

_“This has to be the worst one yet.” Tupperware sounds war-worn, and even Super Craig is overwhelmed by the carnage surrounding them._

_What had been just an attempt to speak to the crime boss had turned into a firefight. The bodies of young men lie broken, draped over the stairwell like Christmas garlands. The crime boss isn’t even here - this is his consigliere’s mansion. Now the consigliere and his wife are slumped in the corner of the room with Mysterion’s body, eyes blank and lips quickly turning blue._

_The heroes really do try to avoid killing anyone at any cost, but sometimes it’s kill or be killed. And - Super Craig thinks of the shipping crate full of women they saved a couple of days ago at the barge - he doesn’t feel too bad about ridding the world of these monsters._

_He’s lost in thought until all of their heads whip in the same direction. There’s a noise, high-pitched and constant, that causes all of them to switch back into high alert._

_Wonder, who’s been healing Kite so he doesn’t have to use his own energy, straightens up, and stumbles up the staircase._

_“Wonder! Wait!” Super Craig cries out, and immediately slips on the icy stairs. Frost is forming around Wonder, and Super Craig knows there’s no use in trying to stop him._

_He watches his husband turn the corner, and Super Craig feels a wave of panic as the noise gets louder. He stomps the staircase, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to shatter the layer of ice, and runs up it._

_He follows the sound, past rooms full of fancy furniture, until he comes to one at the end of the hall, the door frame dripping with icicles. Super Craig takes a deep breath and pushes it open._

_Wonder stands next to a crib, tears falling past his blue mask, holding a wailing baby in his arms. “Oh, Craig,” he whispers, and Super Craig knows right then and there the baby is meant to be theirs._

_He approaches them, vaguely aware the rest of the team has scampered up the stairs and is watching from the doorway behind him._

_Craig lets the baby wrap a tiny hand around his finger._

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Tweek held Tucker close to his chest, rocking the two-year-old in one of Token’s recliner. The child's tears soaked his shirt, and he patted his thick, curly dark hair, humming one of his favorite piano tunes.

“I miss him, too, baby,” Tweek whispered.

He glanced over at his phone, the seventh text Craig had sent him in the last hour lighting up the screen.

_Please, it read, please just listen to me Tweek. I love you. Don’t do this to me. To us. To Tucker._

_I’m doing this so we can all have a better life. Babe, please, just answer your phone._

_Why do you always have to be such a god damn brat? You’ve always been like this. Acting like a spoiled bitch and then making yourself out to be the victim._

_God, I’m sorry, I’m just angry._

_Babe, please. Just give me five minutes in person. I need to see you. I feel like I’m losing my mind without you_

At that Tweek reached over carefully and grabbed his phone.

_Really?_

His heart thumped. Maybe there was hope after all.

Craig answered almost immediately. _Yes, I’ll do anything. It doesn’t have to be in private if that makes you feel better_

Tweek stopped and thought for a second. Token would not be happy with Craig coming over. They were old and close friends, but Token was just as disgusted at all of Coon’s team as Tweek was. It was sad, seeing them all like this.

W _ill you meet me tomorrow at Bebe’s house? In the afternoon? I have to teach a lesson at 11, but after that, I’m free_ , he texted, his breathing short.

_That sounds great. I took some time off so I’m free all day. I promise I’ll do anything to work this out_

Tweek wondered briefly why Craig would take time away from his research. Kyle had told him he had been impossible to be around or talk to since he had been served the divorce papers, but Tweek couldn’t imagine him being so upset as to take time off from the lab. Was Craig really that torn up?

A couple of minutes later, Tweek’s phone buzzed again. _I miss you_ , the text read. _I love you_.

Tweek smiled into the soft hair of his now-sleeping son. Maybe it’d be okay after all.

_________________________________________________________________________________

“You heard me,” Super Craig snapped, pulling his mask down off his nose and mouth.“I’m leaving. My marriage is more important to me than you, fat ass.”

The Coon turned around sharply, his claws beginning to protrude from his knuckles. “Too bad it isn’t as important to Tweek.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Well, it seems like,” Coon started, smiling, pulling a folder from a stack on the table and throwing it to Super Craig, “your husband has been finding comfort somewhere else during this whole ordeal.”

Super Craig could feel his chest tighten as he opened it up, already angry at the way his hands shook. Inside was a large photo taken through one of the windows of Kyle’s office. It was hard to see, but there it was - Tweek in the arms of Kyle, their faces inches apart.

He gripped the edge of the table, and it crumbled in his hands.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Butters gasped at the tightness of Kenny’s hands on his hips. The club music thumped distantly as Kenny shoved him against the wall of the dressing room.

“Oh, now you want me?” Butters asked bitterly between their kissing.

“I don’t just want you, I need you,” Kenny breathed into his ear, and he shivered.

“Get off me.” Butters shoved him to the side and walked to the mirror to fix his lipstick.

“I don’t get it, Butters. You go from being one of the city’s most dangerous villains, to this?”

“Did you forget you’re the one who talked me out of being a villian?”

“I know.” Kenny was suddenly soft again, and carefully ran a hand through Butters’s blonde hair. “I’m glad you listened to me. But you’re so powerful. And you could dance on any stage.”

Butters looked up at him, starting to wring his hands. His face was still round and sweet, even though they weren’t kids anymore.

“I hate watching them touch you. I know what you do in the back rooms.” Kenny’s voice lowered, and his face darkened.

Butters turned around back to the mirror, hating how guilty he felt. _No_ , he thought to himself, _remember what Wendy told you. You can’t let him push you around. He’s not really Kenny anymore._

“We’re not together, Ken. Remember? You sold your soul over completely? It was a big thing, pal.” Butters’s words broke, and he couldn't bring himself to say it menacingly.

He watched Kenny walk closer to him through the mirror, and for a second the reflection of Kenny looked like it was warped.

The once-impish angles of his face now looked frightening, and those eyes Butters once thought the light would never leave were narrowed, something horrific swimming behind them.

“You still haven’t told anyone, right?” Butters was silent.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Dark wisps that burned Butters skin wrapped around his jaw like a hand and wrenched his face to Kenny’s. “I did all of this to protect you! And this is how you thank me? I gave up my humanity for you!”

Butters yelped, and in a flash the knife he kept hidden in his bag flew across the room right into the side of Kenny’s neck.

Blood gushed from the wound, and Kenny went slack jaw, his eyes widening. He collapsed on the floor.

“Oh god,” Butters whispered, kneeling in the pool of blood. “Oh god, Ken, I’m so sorry.”

Butters gulped at Kenny’s eyes - they were sweet and warm and everything they should be. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out, just a bubble of blood that popped grotesquely.

Butters knew the next day the twisted version of Kenny would be back, and he should probably stay out of his way for a little while. But it was these few seconds before death Butters could see the real him - the Kenny they all loved and respected.

“I love you,” Butters said, too numb to feel the tears sliding down his face. Kenny’s eyes went blank, and his body became heavy in his arms.

_________________________________________________________

Bebe dropped it. She wasn’t going to let this escalate like it had for everyone else. She shook her head, carefully painting her nails an electric shade of pink.

“Bebe, if it bothers you, we should talk about it.” Clyde’s nasally voice came from the kitchen along with the smell of dinner.

“Why? You won’t tell me anything.”

“Because… it’s personal.”

Bebe scoffed.

“Anyway… how’s Tweek?” Clyde asked carefully, aware he was tiptoeing into dangerous territory.

“Well, he and Craig are supposed to meet up here tomorrow to talk things out.”

Clyde walked into the living room, a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder.

Bebe did not like the look on his face.

“What?” she asked, eyeing him. “What do I not know?”

____________________________________________________________

Kyle didn’t need his clariovancy to know who was going to be sitting on his couch when he got home. His front door was nothing but splinters, with most of his furniture crushed into pieces just for an extra touch.

“God damn it, Craig. We’re on the same fucking team,” Kyle spat.

Craig sat coolly on the couch, his arms spread across the back of it like they were just old buddies, having a chat. He bent back his head to look at Kyle. Craig was intimidating, Kyle wouldn’t lie. He was unusually tall, dark, and handsome, with a sloping, well-defined face and eyes like jade. Kyle knew under his chullo hat was premature salt and pepper hair.

Craig used to joke he sprouted a grey hair every time Tweek had a panic attack.

“So have you fucked him yet?” he asked, his voice hard.

Kyle stood in the entrance way in shock. “What.. are you talking about?”

“My husband. You know, the love of my life. The other parent of my child. My best friend of twenty years. The one that’s currently divorcing me?”

“Dude, Tweek and I are just friends,” Kyle said slowly, starting to panic Craig had lost his mind like Kenny.

“But you’ve fucked him before right?”

“Well, yeah.” Kyle’s face burned, and he crossed his arms. “But last time I checked, it was a mutual understanding between you two that was okay. Anyway, that was almost a decade ago, man. What’s up with you?”

“I’m sure you know the Coon’s got surveillance on you.” Craig smoothly pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, putting one between his lips and lighting it.

“First off, don’t smoke in my house. Second, yeah, I do know, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, well, he showed me a photo of you getting cozy with my husband.” Craig put the cigarette out on Kyle’s couch, singeing a hole in the fabric. He sighed before getting up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Craig,” Kyle said, feeling his powers start to stir at the threat of the strongman approaching him. “Tweek came to me for law advice concerning your divorce. Nothing happened. He loves you too much.”

Kyle thought he saw something soft flicker in Craig’s eyes for a second. “Listen, man, I know where all this anger comes from. You’re sad - I don’t blame you. But Tweek and I are really just - “

His back hit the wall hard, and it would’ve probably broken his spine if it weren’t for him kickstarting his flight power, cushioning the blow.

“I’m not going to kill you - at least right now. You’re off limits because we’re on the same team. But don’t expect me to have your back, got it? I know you’re up to something - and listen, I’m not the biggest fan of the Coon, if we’re being honest, but I’m not your ally, asshole,” Craig said, turning around to leave. “Tell Tweek our date tomorrow is cancelled, and I’ll see his cheating ass in court.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The Coon watched the dark water in the brass bowl, the odd markings around it glowing faintly, before looking up at the grotesque green creature in front of him.

The tentacled thing sat on a black throne, and at his feet - or what was probably his feet - sat Kenny, a chain around his neck glowing in tandem with the bowl. South Park’s golden boy was no longer the picture of sunshine - his yellow hair was dull, his tanned skin was greying, and those bright blue eyes were all but dead.

Cartman actually felt bad for him - Kenny was never his enemy, but Cartman knew they were all in too deep.

“We’re going to have to show Clyde his mother soon,” the Coon said, watching the image of Craig throwing Kyle into the wall reflected in the black water.

“It’ll take more sacrifice to raise someone from the dead,” the thing hissed, causing a shiver to run up the Coon’s spine.

“I know that, but maybe we can conjure up her spirit just once? To keep him on the line?” Cartman felt sick. Harvesting his friend’s sorrow to feed this creature made even him feel a little tortured. He wondered if that was his contribution.

Apparently Clyde had never seen Pet Cemetery or Fullmetal Alchemist. Cthulhu would bring his mother back to life, but not like Clyde expected.

The Coon pushed the thoughts out of his mind. This would guarantee him a spot ruling over this dimension once Cthulhu conquered it.

Using Butters soul as bait, he had delivered Kenny - Cthulhu’s prodigal son - to him. He shattered Tweek and Craig’s true love, pushed Butters back into a life of depravity, and he was well on the way to ruining any chance Stan had of being a good father.

And Kyle? Oh, he had plans for Kyle. Heidi Turner appeared in the bowl, sitting at her desk, grading papers. She was beautiful, and Cartman could see the kindness on her face. She looked pure.

Pure enough to be worth ruining, and pure enough to crush Kyle’s heart.


	3. I quite detest the man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: There's a part of this one that seems like a non-consensual situation - but it's not.
> 
> I've decided to make this a series :) so like, eventually this arc will end - and it'll be a solid ending - but I'll leave it a little open for the next work.
> 
> For those of you curious about Tweek and Kyle, well, a lot of things are going to be answered.
> 
> (Also, I totes see a similarity in Super Craig's personality and Mr. Darcy's :) and also, I totally think Kenny would be like, a firefighter or something.) 
> 
> Thank you so much for the support. Plz let me know what you think!

_"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."_

\- _"Pride and Prejudice"_ , **Jane Austen**

Butters’s body felt on fire, every muscle spasming in pleasure.

He was dizzy, all the lights and colors melding together.

The hands on him were rough, like they had always been, right? From all those days playing outside and mopping the floors at City Wok and climbing ladders up burning buildings - the same hands that had folded a million little origami cranes and held his little sister’s hand.

But this was Kenny, right? Butters quickly concluded he didn’t care as someone rolled their hips, and he let out a moan that sounded too animalistic to be his. His eye couldn’t focus.

When did he become like this? He used to be so good, so ambitious, so kind. And then everyone abandoned him. The memory still stung just as fresh as it did back then. He had realized his friends - the one escape he had from his shitty family - laughed at him behind his back.

Except for Kenny. And despite of that, or because of that, Mysterion was Chaos’s biggest enemy. It had been a ridiculous thing - as Butters he craved Kenny, but behind their masks, they had held knives at each other’s throats.

Eventually reality set in, and Kenny had threatened to cut him off completely if he didn’t turn away from the bad side.

Butters gripped fistfuls of the silk sheets, someone’s tongue making their way up to his neck.

He wasn’t sure how and when he got to a bed - everything was still spinning a mile a second and somehow staying completely still at the same time - but he let himself go, back arching into the pleasure.

The tongue turned into gentle kisses, and Kenny nipped at his earlobe. His breath was hot as he sighed before whispering,

_“He knows what you’re planning.”_

Butters sat up in bed with a start, alone. His room, modest and full of plants, was bathed in the sunrise, completely empty of monsters and immortals.

He raised up the covers and groaned. “Oh, hamburgers,” he said to no one in particular. Butters thought this shit was supposed to stop in high school.

Getting up to wash himself off, he noticed how his T-shirt clung to him in a cold sweat. 

The dream had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, right?

____________________________________________________________

_The tentacles slither up Butters’s body as he chokes on his own sobs._

_“So sweet, so pure, Leopold Stotch. Even as a villain, you weren’t quite evil were you?” the thing hisses, tightening its hold around his neck. “Your soul is going to taste so good.”_

_“Don’t you fucking touch him,” comes a growl from the rafters. Mysterion appears, his purple bodysuit and hood blending him into the darkness._

_“Oh, look who it is. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We are tied by fate after all.” Cthulhu drops Butters, who cries out in pain when he hits the concrete floor._

_Mysterion instinctually - unwisely - lurches to help him up, only to drop to his knees in his own pain._

_“Listen up, my son. Nothing can stop me from devouring him whole. Except for one thing.”_

_Butters starts to stir, blood dripping from his mouth, and Kenny reaches over to him. Cthulhu quickly grabs Butters again, sliding a tentacle around his waist and up his shirt._

_“You finally give me your soul, join me as you should’ve long ago, and I’ll set him free.”_

_“No!” Butters screams. “Don’t do it! Please don’t.” He starts to sob again. “Please, please, please, Ken, you can’t do it!”_

_Mysterion stands up, and drops his hood. Tears run down his face, but it’s rigid as stone._

_“I’ll never talk to you again. I’ll leave you. I’ll kill myself instead of watching you do this,” Butters screams, willing to say anything to stop what he knows in inevitable._

_“Good, good,” Cthulhu coos, reaching a tentacle out to Kenny and carefully placing Butters on the ground. He tries to run to Kenny, but falls with a sharp yelp. He’s broken something._

_Cthulhu caresses Kenny’s face almost tenderly before he lifts him up, snaking around him. Darkness oozes out of the both of them, and suddenly there’s more screaming - too many voices to make sense._

_Butters reaches up for him, but it’s too late. The dark fog is rapidly pouring out of Kenny’s mouth, his eyes completely black like the monster devouring him._

_Then with a loud crack, Cthulhu drops Kenny, whose body flops to the floor like a rag doll. The lights in the warehouse explode, and just as quickly as they are plunged into darkness, they flicker back on, and Cthulhu is gone._

___________________________________________________________

“No,” Bebe choked as soon as she was able to form words again. She reached out a hand to touch it, but thought better of it. 

Clyde sniffled, and for once Bebe couldn't blame him for breaking down. “I know, baby, I know.”

“And you’re going back to that team?!” Bebe suddenly screeched, her face full of anger and disgust.

Clyde shushed her, looking too boyish and sensitive for his uniform. Bebe wondered how many people took a cop that cried all the time seriously.

“I have to find out what happened to Timmy. Besides, the Coon promised me something. Something I… really need, Bebe.”

Bebe pointed wordlessly to the rusted wheelchair, covered in moss and still stinking from the bottom of the river.

“I won’t ever find out what happened to Timmy if I isolate myself. Detective 101. The best way to crack a nut is be a nut yourself.”

“Big words coming from a traffic cop,” Bebe muttered, wiping her eyes and leaving the room.

__________________________________________________________________

Kyle handed Wendy the glass of water. “Do you need like, a pillow or something? Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine, Kyle. I’m not that delicate.”

Kyle looked at her ever-growing belly, and she playfully shoved him.

“So,” he started carefully as he opened the laptop for her on the table, “you’re staying at your mom’s?”

Wendy nodded, and Kyle was amazed at how serene she seemed about all of this.

Kyle opened his mouth to say something, and then wisely shut it.

“Just until he agrees to go back to rehab,” she said simply. “I can’t stress out too much right now.” She patted her belly. “Speaking of which.. Before we start, can I ask you a honest question?” 

Kyle sighed, knowing by her tone it was going to be an uncomfortable one. “Sure, Wendy, hit me with it.”

“Has he.. You know… recently?” Kyle couldn’t tell if her hesitation was meant to be threatening or if she was just trying to avoid conflict.

He groaned. “You are the second person this week to ask me if I’m sleeping with their husband. No, no, I’m not, god damn it.”

“Listen, I don’t think you’re sleeping with him. He just, well, you know how he gets when he’s drunk. Stan told me about the time you kissed him and I  - “

“Please don’t remind me of that.” Kyle’s voice was quiet enough to hush Wendy.

Desperate to change the tide of the conversation, Wendy cleared her throat. “So.. the second person, huh?”

Kyle gave her a look, a little more good naturedly than the last. He silently pointed to the cigarette hole in his couch.

“Ohh,” she laughed. “Holy shit, dude. Didn’t you and Tweek used to mess around back when he and Craig were all like, ‘We’re gonna explore other people for a little while before we commit blah blah blah’?”

Kyle laughed, running his hands through his red, curly hair, cut closely to his head. “Yeah. You know, his lightning powers are… interesting.”

Wendy scrunched her nose. “I do not want to know that. But you’re still like, totally into him, right?”

Kyle was silent, but his blush betrayed him. “There’s no reason to think about it. I knew back then Craig was who he’d go back to every night, and I still believe it now, despite… whatever.”

“Stan broke your heart, too, didn’t he?” Wendy asked quietly, and Kyle inhaled. “Oh!” she exclaimed, happy to cut the tension. “Guess who I ran into at the grocery store?”

“Who?” Kyle asked, booting up the software Wendy had designed to track the Coon and Friends.

“Heidi Turner. She asked about you.”

______________________________

Craig’s head spun as Kenny pushed another glass of brandy in his hands. He was close enough he could smell his cologne.

“You look thinner,” Kenny said quietly, tracing his fingers down Craig’s arm.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly been in the mood to eat anything lately.” Craig’s brows knit together. “Why are you here again?”

“To check up on you. We’re still friends, you know?” Kenny said this much more perkily, taking the glass out of Craig’s hands and putting it on the table.

“I.. did you know about him and Kyle?” Craig asked quietly, his voice softer than it’s been since his world came crashing down.

“No, baby, I didn’t. It makes sense, though.”

Craig chose to ignore the “baby”. “Why do you say that?”

Kenny picked up a photo in a gold frame off the table and studied it. It was obviously a spontaneous moment - Tweek sat at his piano with a younger Tucker in his lap, the sweet look on his face telling Kenny who was behind the lense. Craig looked at it and winced.

“Mmm, Kyle’s cool-headed and responsible and lemme tell you, the guy fucks like a fairy on acid,” Kenny whispered, putting down the photo.

“You’re not exactly making me feel better. What’s up with you lately? You’re Mr. Dark and Mysterious persona is getting a little too real. It doesn’t suit you,” Craig said through clenched teeth. “If you’re here to make fun of me, you can get the fuck out.”

“No, of course I wouldn’t make fun of you,” Kenny purred, nuzzling Craig’s shoulder. “I’m heartbroken, too, you know. Butters… he and I aren’t exactly a thing anymore. Not that we were much a thing before.”

“I heard he’s got himself several fans at the local… clubs,” Craig drawled, eager to remind Kenny he wasn’t the only one whose lover was getting his rocks off with someone else.

“Yeah, isn’t life a bitch?” Kenny whispered before colliding his mouth with Craig’s, his hands eagerly sliding across his thigh. Craig angrily kissed back, all teeth and heat, before he came to his senses and shoved Kenny off.

“Stop.” Craig gasped, refusing to meet Kenny’s eyes. “I’m still a married man. At least for now.”

Kenny stood up, brushing himself off and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. There was something frightening about it, and for a second even the fearless Craig felt his insides flop. “Fine, be that way. Call me when you’re ready to face the reality he's never coming back.”

Craig watched him leave, trying not to think about the fact the last thing Kenny said wasn’t in his own voice.

______________________________________________________________________

Wonder knew all along it was inevitable they’d cross paths on the battlefield.

“Guys,” Toolshed said, always the peacekeeper, “let’s just all walk away and pretend we didn’t see each other.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” Kite said exasperated, giving Toolshed a grateful look.

“This was our fucking case,” Mosquito spat, crossing his arms.

Wonder scrunched his nose. Mosquito always smelled like blood and disease whenever they were on the field. His eyes never left Super Craig, though, who looked hell bent on avoiding his gaze.

His nose was bleeding, which surprised Wonder since Super never left himself open. He must be slipping. Wonder fought the urge to reach up and heal it.

“Yeah, well, you don’t own this city, so you can fuck off.” Toolshed pushed his goggles off his face onto the top of his head.

It all happened in a fraction of a second. Toolshed went flying across the alley, hitting his head on the ground with a cringe-worthy crack.

Without really thinking, Wonder directed his energy to his fingertips, stopping with a jolt when he heard Super Craig yell, his ropes of lightning disappearing.

“Guys, there’s really no need for this. We’re acting no better than the gangs-” Kyle was cut off by Super’s acidic laugh. He clutched his arm where Wonder’s electricity had burnt his sleeve off.

“Wow, guess you don’t really want to fight your fuckbuddy, huh?” Super’s voice was dripping with viciousness.

“Not this again. I told you - the Coon is lying to you. I almost passed out and he was just being a good friend and -” Tweek could feel the frost forming on his skin.

“And fucking you?’

With a wild scream, Tweek waved his hand, shooting icicles and landing one in Super’s chest. Perhaps subconsciously his powers still recognized Craig as his best friend and other father of his child because the icicles only pierced Super’s chest enough to draw blood and nothing else.

“You bitch!” Super Craig pulled them out and threw them on the ground where they shattered at their feet.

“Why won’t you listen to me? Why would you believe the Coon over me? You’re such a child!” Wonder shouted before Super flung him into the wall, pinning him there.

“Why don’t you see I’m still in love with you?” Super asked quietly. Wonder felt his body go limp at the tone of his voice. 

Wonder began to say something, but Super Craig squeezed the painless spot in between his neck and his shoulder, and Tweek slipped into blackness.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

_Stan looks at the last bit of watered down whiskey in his glass. He shakes the rest of the ice mindlessly as his wedding band glints even in the darkness. He made his and Wendy’s himself, formed out of iron and some iridescent stone from space Bradley Biggle had brought back on a trip home._

_Stan looks up at his drinking partner. “Want another round? It’s on me.”_

_Kenny shakes his head and grins. “No thanks. I’m cutting back.”_

_Whereas Stan managed to fall into the pit of inherited alcoholism, Kenny has avoided it. Stan admires Kenny - they all do. He’s every bit of the Herculean hero they strive to be._

_Not that he doesn't have his faults - he wasn't always so sober, and he still chases pretty women and handsome men like there's no tomorrow, but out of all of them, Kenny has it the most together._

_“So, you’re going to be a dad, huh?” Kenny asks sweetly. “Congrats.”_

_Stan shrugs, drunk enough and comfortable enough around Kenny to be honest. “I guess this is the real deal.”_

_“It wasn’t before?”_

_Stan pauses, and then look back up at Kenny. With his heart shaped face and prominent brow - the way his deep blue eyes always look so earnest - Kenny can see why Kyle would be the tortured soul he is about Stan._

_Then it dawns on him. “Oh, Stan. You know Kyle is going to be ecstatic. We’re uncles now.” Kenny raises his empty glass._

_His smile is contagious, and Stan instantly feels better. How can the manifestation of death himself be so comforting?_

_“It’s been years since …. You know.” Kenny puts down his glass with thud. “He’s moved on.”_

_“Has he?” Stan asks bitterly. “He’s still all strung up on Tweek Tweak, and that was a decade ago.”_

_“Okay, maybe our Kyle has a problem with married men. And robot chicks.”_

_Stan rolls his eyes. Kyle only ever wants what he shouldn’t have._


	4. Shouldn't have stood that close to the fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all so dramatic, which isn't my style, but like ... superhero comics and movies are super dramatic, right?
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

_Oh my precious ember burning my sweet glowing light_

_From the moment I first saw you, I was yours and you were mine_

_Deep down we both knew you were trouble by design_

_And the echo of my mother's words, "Baby, don't you play with fire"._

_\- "Too Late to Say Goodbye", **Cage the Elephant**_

 

_Clyde is only a boy, before the badge and before the insatiable need for blood. He doesn’t feel the carpet underneath his legs._

_He’s faintly aware of the buzz of the cops’ radios, of the pale hand stretched out beyond the bathroom doorway. Clyde feels bile in the back of his throat._

_“Where’s your father?”_

_Clyde doesn’t answer._

_“Clyde? Son, you have to work with us.”_

_“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Nothing but silence._

_Clyde isn’t smart or particularly good-looking or charming or brave. He’s just a happy little boy, and sure, his mom is a little severe, but his life is perfect in his little mountain town with his happy family and and and_

_A cop picks him up as they bring a stretcher up the stairs, and Clyde realizes they’re going to carry his mom off forever._ ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Only an immortal can kill an immortal,” Henrietta said with an eye roll. “Duh.”

“Who says we have to kill Kenny? Can’t we just banish Cthulhu from this dimension and his body?” It was a question, but it came off as a plea as Karen dropped another used tissue into her pile.

“Yeah,” Bebe added. “Maybe there’s a way we can bypass this.”

Kyle looked down, inexplicably feeling guilty. “I don’t think we’re powerful enough to go against Cthulhu. There’s not enough of us. Especially minus Kenny and Timmy.”

Butters had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire meeting. Kyle sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you can’t tell us the whole story? It could make all the difference.” Kyle felt like any sort of interaction with Butters needed to be as delicate as possible - it seemed at any moment he was at the danger of falling over the edge.

He smiled at Kyle sadly, and he suddenly missed Butters’s ridiculously large grin. Butters closed his eyes and recounted the whole thing, his face screwed up like it was painful. When he finally opened his eyes, they were damp.

“They used his love for me as bait. They took our love and manipulated it into turning him into a … monster. I helped turn him into a monster.” Butters breathing quickened. “I begged him not to do it, I swear, but he didn’t even listen.”

Bebe hugged him. “None of this is your fault, Butters.”

He shook his head slowly, withdrawing into himself again. Suddenly his self-destructive path made sense to Kyle.

“But wait, what if _everyone_ helped?” Karen sniffled.

“Everyone? Craig wants to kill me because he thinks I’m sleeping with Tweek, Mosquito is, from my understanding —” he shot Bebe a look, “is doing his own thing. Jimmy is so involved in the sudden attention the Coon and Friends are getting he can’t see straight, and Scott - well, fuck Scott. And that’s just my own god damn team.”

“I have an idea, a theory,” Henrietta started, lighting yet another cigarette much to Kyle’s chagrin. “Listen, remember when Cartman drank Kenny’s ashes and after that, they shared a body?”

“I try not to, but go on,” Kyle sighed.

“I think that’s how Kenny’s powers… work. His soul is like, easily put into other … vessels, easily removed, detachable kind of. Unlike regular people, his soul isn’t dependent on his body's life cycle at all.” Henrietta was getting as riled up as she possibly could, and Kyle suddenly felt bad for all the times they teased Kenny for being friends with her. “Souls aren’t destroyable. You can remove them from their owner, you can consume them, whatever you fucking want, but you can’t destroy them. And Kenny's would be particularly hard to completely consume because he can detach his soul from shit.”

“So what you’re saying is Kenny’s real soul is still out there and not in Cthlhu?” Bebe’s eyes widened. 

“Well, yeah, but like, being held captive by it probably.”

“If we find his real soul, we could save him?” Butters asked, and for the first time in a long time Kyle thought he could see a glimmer of who he used to be.

“Yes, but,” Henrietta ashed her cigarette into one of Kyle’s potted plants, “we’ll still have to do something about Cthulhu. We could try and banish him, but shit, man, I don’t know if any of us are that powerful.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_“Thanks for coming out with me tonight,” Heidi says, flashing Kyle a smile, her teeth white against her red lipstick. “Sorry I went through Wendy.”_

_Kyle returns the smile, feeling his face get hot. He’s walking her back to her apartment, and the warm breeze picks up the smell of her perfume. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a great time. It’s been … a long time since I’ve been able to just have fun.” Kyle catches himself frowning and fixes it before, he hopes, Heidi can tell._

_“Oh, I’m sure. You’ve got to be really busy. A general practice attorney, huh?”_

_Kyle blushes again. “Yeah, we get pretty busy, but I’ve been looking for more pro bono stuff to be honest.”_

_Heidi giggles, and suddenly Kyle sees the little girl in the flowered hat she once was. “Of course you are. How’s Ike? What is he doing? Do you still play “kick the baby” with him?”_

_Kyle throws back his head and laughs. “God, no. Have you see the Brawny guy on the paper towels? That’d be like trying to kick him.” Kyle feels a tug at his heart. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Ike, and even though they share an occasional text and call, Kyle feels deep down Ike’s never really forgiven him. “He’s gone all feral in the Canadian wilderness.”_

_“What? Really?”_

_“No! I mean, yes, kind of. He’s an author. A fairly successful one. I’m pretty sure he writes by candlelight and has a pet wolf and all that bullshit. Still full of piss and vinegar, though.”_

_For some reason, Heidi finds that hilarious, and they stop so she can catch her breath. They eventually find their way to her apartment, and there’s a moment of tension, of thickness, but the good kind that Kyle hasn’t felt in a long time._

_“Do you wanna come … up?” Heidi asks, awkwardly gesturing to the building._

_“Sure.” Kyle grins and for the first time in a while, he isn’t thinking about what could possibly lie ahead._ _____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bebe shook her head quickly. “Come on, Timmy could transport himself. It wasn’t his chair that was the source of that, it was his brain.”

“But why wouldn’t he try and talk to us then?” Wendy pointed out.

“The man could brainwash people, Wendy. It’d be almost impossible to kill him.” Bebe stirs her tea confidently. “But I looked at that wheelchair they fished out of the river and had Token mess with it - you know his built in database? The thing that helped him open his doors and shit with programmed codes? That helped him send texts through wavelengths?” She waved her straw for emphasis. “It’s wiped clean. And not from being in the water - the backups are empty.”

“So whoever killed him or whatever wiped his private information?”

“But why would they? He’s impossible to kill, his private information is conveniently inaccessible, and listen, if the Coon had defeated him, we’d know. The guy never stops bragging.”

“You think Timmy is in hiding by choice? But why? Why would he abandon us at a time like this?”

Bebe ran a hand through her long hair and flipped it over her shoulder. “That’s it - there must be a reason he’s hiding. Maybe Timmy is our secret weapon we didn’t even know we had.” ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Butters and Kenny sit at Starks Pond back in South Park. Kenny brushes Butters bangs out of his face, but he waves his hand away._

_“Ken, we have to be careful. If my dad finds out he’ll freak.” Butters is maybe a touch softer, and Kenny has less scars, less lines around his eyes when he smiles._

_“I wouldn’t worry about him, baby. You knew all along he’d leave you and your mom.”_

_Butters has a hard time focusing on his face, but he feels the sudden need to cry._

_“What?” That hasn’t happened yet._

_“Will you be my Han Solo?” Kenny flirts, the sun behind him shining so bright Butters can’t look at him directly._

_“What’re you talking about?”_

_“You know, when I was in Cartman’s body, it wasn’t that bad.” Kenny sighs. “Kyle and them - they tend to write him off, but Cartman - he’s not truly a evil guy deep down. Maybe you should pay him a visit. At least he might slip something up.”_

_Realization dawns on Butters. He reaches to grab fistful of Kenny’s orange parka but feels nothing instead. “Why can’t you just tell me?”_

_Kenny shushes him. “He already knows you’re catching on. Come on, baby. Remember when you almost jumped into the fire?”_

_Butters nodded. Not his best moment, but at the time, he was overwhelmed with the feelings of loneliness._

_“And I grabbed you before you could? What did you ask?”_

_“How did you find me?”_

_“And I said?”_

_“I’m never that far from you,” Butters chokes._

_“There you go.” Kenny kisses him, and it was the realest thing Butters has felt since this whole thing started._

_When Butters wakes up, he’s clutching Kenny’s orange parka._


	5. Sometimes dead is better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being awesome and reading this.
> 
> EDIT: Ah, the last section I had him in the nursery, which makes no sense, because it's Kenny's house. Also Tucker is 2, so it wouldn't be a nursery ...

_"The soil of a man's heart is stonier, Louis. A man grows what he can, and he tends it. Because what you buy is what you own. And what you own... always comes home to you."_

- _Jud Crandall, **Pet Sematary, Stephen King**_

 

“Focus, Kyle,” Bebe snapped, attempting to close her yellow blazer over her big boobs.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t have powers, you’re pretty good at bossing people around about how to use them.” Kyle opened one eye and then closed it. “Besides, you can’t force these things.”

“He’s right. Cigarette me,” Henrietta commanded, and Butters dutifully held a cigarette to her lips. Her hands were clasped with Kyle’s.

Bebe rolled her eyes. “You people are ridiculous.”

“I’m going to send a surge your way. Like, brace yourself. I don’t want your brains everywhere.”

Henrietta took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The water in Butters’s glass on the table vibrated even though everything else stood still.

Kyle’s face changed, and he opened his eyes wide, completely white. He let out a slow breath, the sound constant but echoing as if they were in a tunnel.

A second felt like a millennium until Henrietta yelped out in pain. “God damn it, Kyle, stop!”

Her fingers looked ready to break under Kyle’s grip. He started to shake, blood dripping from his nose.

“Fuck!” Bebe grabbed Kyle’s shoulders. “Kyle, snap out of it!”

The irises reappeared in his eyes, and he leaned forward to throw up. “Holy shit,” he choked, spitting onto the concrete floor of the base. “Timmy… he’s alive. Captured, but alive.”

“Really? Oh thank god,” Bebe said, rubbing Kyle’s back. “Why are they keeping him alive?”

“He tried to tell me, but something… cut us off.” Kyle shivered. “I think I’m done for the day, guys.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Isn’t taking a break hurting your research?” Clyde asked, kicking a pebble across the path.

“I guess, but I don’t even know if I’d be any good right now in the lab.” Clyde looked up at Craig, surprised at his admission. Craig kept looking ahead, blowing smoke out of his nose. “As much as a disagree with Mephesto’s ethics, he’s got it covered for a little while. Not that I think any of his shit will be worthwhile.”

Dr. Mephesto sought ways to raise the dead, which Craig not only thought was morally wrong but impossible as well. It was a pipe dream born out of emotions, Craig always countered, but secretly he wondered what he would do if something happened to Tucker like it did Dr. Mephesto’s son.

While Mephesto played Dr. Frankenstein in South Park, his prodigy used his research to design mechanical robot parts to handle maintenance of spacecraft, but Craig hoped his work could one day be applied as human prosthetics.

“Do you really think it’s impossible to raise people from the dead?” Clyde asked quietly. Suspiciously quietly, Craig thought.

“Yes. I’m sure someday the technology will get there, but I don’t think they’ll be human.”

“How do you explain Kenny then?”

“Kenny is human?” Craig asked caustically.

“Anyway,” Clyde said, brushing that comment off, “if you miss Tweek so much, why don’t you tell him?”

Craig stopped, and Clyde suddenly realized he had said the wrong thing.

“I have, dumbass. Do I have to remind you he cheated on me?”

“You don’t know that, Craig. The photo didn’t actually show them kissing. Tweek and Kyle’s story check out.” A flash of hurt crossed Craig’s face, and Clyde wiped a tear from his own face. “You would be giving me the tough love talk, too, if it were me.”

“He thinks I’m planning on hurting our own baby. Tweek thinks I am evil enough to sacrifice our own son. How do I forgive that?”

Clyde was quiet for a second. “I don’t know, man, you know how Tweek is. He’s always paranoid. I wouldn’t take it too personally. Especially if Kenny is whispering in his ear the entire time.” Clyde looked up at Craig, surprised to see him crying. “Wow, dude, this is only like, the third time I’ve seen you cry in almost three decades.”

Craig angrily wiped his eyes on his leather jacket's sleeve. “Shut up, asshole. You know how much I love him.”

“I do. I think you should talk to him. Life’s too short, right?”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Clyde clutched his sides.

“Clyde, you have to calm down,” Bebe said, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t help you until you do.”

_Clyde suddenly realizes he has no idea what to say to his mom when it’s done. How do you apologize for killing your own mother and then rationalize bringing her back?_

“I should’ve listened to Craig.”

Craig hushed him, using the tone of voice he only usually only reserved for Tweek. “Dude, you’ve been torturing yourself about your mom since you were nine. The Coon manipulated that.”

_His mother - is that his mother? She crawls out of the bowl. Her eyes bulge out of her head, and her teeth are exposed. Clyde gags at the smell._

“Why? Why would he do something so cruel?” Clyde sobbed, grabbing onto Bebe.

“I don’t know, baby,” Bebe whispered, tears falling down her face.

_She reaches for him. “Clyde.” It comes out as if she’s in pain but melds into a command. “Come here, honey.”_

“What.. what if I had taken her hand?”

_Clyde feels the inexplicable urge to take her hand. Every part of his body is screaming no, but he feels himself moving closer. He’s terrified, so why is he doing this?_

“Her hand?” Craig asked, suddenly alert.

“Yeah, she tried to get me to come with her.”

_“Give over your soul, Clyde, and join me here. No more tears, no more guilt.”_

Craig exchanged looks with Bebe. For the first time ever, they heard a shake in Craig’s voice. “What the fuck are they up to?”

_Something shoves Clyde back. His fear is replaced by a warmth that spreads through his body like liquid._

_The bowl shakes, and his mother is sucked back in._

_“Fuck!” the Coon yells, running to the bowl. “What the fuck is happening?”_

_Something tells Clyde to run - run until he feels like his legs can’t move anymore._

“That’s not _all,” Clyde hiccupped, his tears more angry now than sad._

_At one point Clyde’s eyes slide over to the tentacled creature, but that’s not what grabs his attention. Kenny sits on the steps, his ripped parka stained in blood. His face is ashened, and his eyes are empty. Clyde wonders if he’s even alive._

_He tries to stand up, as if to say something important to Clyde, until the creature yanks on a chain Clyde didn’t even realize was around Kenny’s neck. Kenny lets out a cry of pain.)_

Craig stood up suddenly, fighting the urge to crush the table underneath him. “Tweek was right.” ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kyle turned his head to look at Heidi. “You totally don’t judge me for doing this on our third date, right?”

“How long have we known each other?” Heidi laughed, not bothering to put her clothes back on.

“Yeah, I know, but still!” They laid tangled in his burgundy sheets. “Things have been crazy, Heidi.”

“I can tell. What is with everyone? Wendy wouldn’t really talk about it.” Heidi reached for Kyle’s hand under the blanket.

“Well, a lot. Craig thinks Tweek cheated on him with me.” Kyle had a humorous tone in his voice despite the shittiness of the situation.

“What? Why?” Heidi flipped over quickly, pulling her face close to his. “Wait - have you and Tweek.. Are you…?” She grasped for words to make sure she didn’t offend him. Heidi was careful like that after the bullshit with Cartman happened when they were younger.

“Into men? Yes. Slept with Tweek? Yes, with Craig’s approval.” Kyle blushed. His bisexuality was a weird topic for him.

Heidi was quiet, and Kyle began to worry.

“Does it freak you out?” he asked with trepidation.

“No, no, I just… promise you won’t be mad?”

Kyle groaned. He really wished people would quit with that. “I guess.”

“I mean, there were a ton of rumors in high school, and you and Stan lived together through college, and everyone just assumed… That is, until he finally married Wendy.”

“No. Almost. He kissed me twice, and tried to sleep with me the night before his wedding.” Kyle covered his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Please don’t tell Wendy.”

“I won’t. It’s in the past. I feel bad for you, though. That must’ve been so confusing,” Heidi said, and Kyle’s heart swelled at the tone in her voice.

“It was. He’s my best friend in the whole wide world, and to be honest, I had never really thought about it until that time he first kissed me, and then it was like my world was turned upside down.” Kyle stared at the ceiling, pushing down the emotions that threatened to rip through the surface. “And then he acted like it never happened.”

“That’s awful. I’m sure you were heartbroken.” Heidi leaned over and stroked the side of Kyle’s face.

“Yeah, I was, and then not long after that, all the shit happened with Tweek.” He threw up his hands. He hadn’t talked about this to anyone - not even Kenny. Kyle simply felt it would put Kenny in an awkward position.

“And that went badly?”

“Not exactly. It was pretty hot and heavy, though he spent a lot of time worrying what Craig was doing. I liked spoiling him, you know?” Kyle thought about Tweek’s smile, sweet and subtle. “And then he and Craig decided to go back to monogamy, and that was it.”

Heidi kissed the top of his head.

“So, two people. Two people made me feel shit and then bailed when it got too real.” Kyle covered his face.

Heidi grabbed his hands, pulling them down. “Hey, I promise I’m not going to bail.”

Kyle smiled, feeling like a thousand pounds had been lifted off of him.

“But uh, if you’re really into spoiling people,” Heidi teased, reaching her hand down Kyle’s torso, “Then maybe round two?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Craig banged on Token’s front door. “Toke, let me in!” Neither he or Tweek would answer their phones, which wasn’t surprising to Craig, but he had the ever-creeping feeling of panic.

“Dude, holy shit, what?” Token asked annoyed, swinging the door open. “What are you even doing here?”

Craig looked up at the prestigious Dr. Black in all his sweater-vested glory. He must have been about to throw a dinner party. “I’m here to see Tweek.”

“Why?”

“Because I think the Coon and Cthulhu are going to fuck us all over.”

Token looked at him in that condescending way he sometimes had. “Yeah, really?”

“No, Token, I think he’s going to hurt my son. I think he’s trying to suck up our souls. Like, I think this is the real shit.”

Token swung the door fully open. “My man, I’ve been waiting for you to come to your fucking senses. Get in here, let’s figure this out. Tweek is hanging out with Kenny tonight since I’m having some colleagues over, but if I call them -”

“What?!” Craig paled. “He’s with Kenny?”

Token straightened up at the alarm in his voice. “Yeah, why?”

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Tweek tucks his son into Karen’s bed and kisses him on the head. Tweek can’t help but notice how messy her room is, with her drawers pulled open and her varying shades of black clothes thrown about the floor. He almost trips on a studded boot on his way out. It looks more like she had made a hasty escape instead of just packing to spend the weekend with Ike in Canada._

_“Thanks for letting us crash here tonight,” he says, making his way back into the living room. Tweek feels that overwhelmingly annoying feeling he’s had the last couple of months like he can’t control his emotions again - reminding him of a time when his parents medicated him with caffeine instead of proper medication. “I try so hard to keep it together, but when he finally goes to bed, I just can’t.”_

_Tweek sits next to Kenny on his rather plain couch and begins to sob._

_Kenny wipes one of Tweek’s tears away with his thumb and shushes him._

_Tweek suddenly looks up, shaking. “Do you.. Do you think I made a mistake?”_

_Kenny tilts his head to the side. “About what, Tweakers?”_

_Tweek looks at the wedding band he still wears. “Marrying him? Should I have chosen Kyle?”_

_“Oh, Tweek, it’s no good to think about what could’ve been.” Kenny reaches over to the table, and presses a cup of coffee into Tweek’s hands. “This’ll make you feel better.”_

_Tweek nods numbly and takes a sip. “Do you think he’ll ever believe me?”_

_Kenny is silent, watching Tweek closely._

_“I think I feel a little light headed,” Tweek mummers, taking long drinks. “What if I asked him to go to counseling? My dad recommended that, not that he… gives good.. advice.”_

_It doesn’t take long before Tweek’s pupils dilate. He leans forward and drops the mug, coffee splattering on the carpet and couch. “What.. what did you do to me?” He can barely get the words out._

_“Poisoned you, obviously. Neat, right? No taste or anything. Henrietta taught it to me back when, well, I was.. Me,” Kenny says with a cruel tinge of humor. “But don’t worry your pretty face, you won’t die. At least not before most of your major organs shut down.”_

_Blood drips out of Tweek’s nose, and he struggles to say something. Kenny is beginning to grow fuzzy, but all Tweek can think about is his baby sleeping in the next room._

_“You know what I’m going to do, right? See, I share this… thing with the Kenny you really know. He’s like a cockroach, I can’t get rid of him. But I can have a whole new fresh body, one with a mind blank enough to make my own.” Tweek can only listen, fighting the feeling of deep sleep he so wants to slip into. “And the best part is my power feeds off of darkness - sorrow, misery, anger. So not only do you get to slowly die knowing your son is going to become my puppet, I’ll leave you at the altar for Craig to find. When he’s weak enough with grief, I’ll suck your souls up. It’s like a double whammy of tragedy. Pretty Shakespearean, huh?”_

_Kenny pokes Tweek’s stomach, but Tweek just lies there, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. “Well, that didn’t take long.”_

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck, I can’t get ahold of Kyle,” Tupperware said, frustrated, gripping his phone.

Little streaks of blood and vomit started at the couch and ended at the door, which had been left open when they got there, the smell combining with the spilled coffee on the carpet.

Craig sat motionless on the floor, staring at the empty bed.

"We're too late."

“No.” Stan motioned to Clyde with his head, and they hoisted Craig up off the floor. “We’re not. The blood, the coffee, the vomit … it’s still wet.” He spun Craig around, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I’ll go find Kyle and see what the fuck he’s doing. The rest of you should go find Cartman. I have a feeling he knows where they are.”

Craig took a shuddering breath, his eyes hazy with shock. Nothing felt real. Stan shifted out of his line of focus and was replaced with Clyde.

“Tweek is stronger than he acts, you know that. And you’ve got all of us behind you. All of us.”


	6. No more pain and no more shame and misery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the mistakes in the last chapter ( I've since edited them out ). I write everything in no timeline, and then I piece it together and fill in the gaps, but sometimes I forget to tweek (lol) some things. 
> 
> Ready to see Butters be badass?
> 
> Also, if anyone has any ideas about wtf to name Stan's -----, plz let me know. I'm trying to think of a name that calls back to the show, but...
> 
> We're so close to the end of this work, but the saga will continue :) I'm trying to set everything up - if anyone has any ideas or things they really want to see, I am totally up for suggestions.

_Standing now_

_Calling all the people here to see the show_

_Calling for my demons now to let me go_

_I need something, give me something wonderful_

_\- "Love and Hate", **Michael Kiwanuka**_

 

_Kyle looks up at the sky, searching for stars but finding none. He sometimes misses the smallness of South Park, free of light pollution._

_He turns his head at the sound of Stan’s lighter clicking. “Dude, I thought you quit,” Kyle says, aggravated. He can’t help but focus his eyes on the callouses on Stan’s hands._

_“Yeah, well…” Stan exhales the smoke. He looks Kyle in the eyes, and Kyle returns it full force, refusing to be overwhelmed by the intense gaze like he was in high school._

_“Why’d you call me here? The park of all places?”_

_“Because I wanted this to be private, and the outdoors make me more comfortable. You know, i used to want nothing more than to leave South Park,” Stan says, closing his eyes and shaking his head, “but now I think I miss it.”_

_“Stan, if you’re going to suddenly bust out some love confession - “ Kyle meant it as a joke but suddenly blushed at the realization of what he actually said._

_Stan grins, though. “No, that’s not it. I just wanted to say fuck all of this shit. No matter what happens with all of this fucking civil war whatever… you’re still my best friend.”_

_“Have you been drinking?” Kyle fights the urge to embrace him._

_“Nah, I’m working on that, dude. Which brings me to the next point - you’ll be my daughter’s godfather, right?”_

_Kyle gives up and throws his arms around him. “Of course. Wait - a daughter?!” He pulls away and gives Stan a questioning look._

_“Yep. Hopefully she’ll be less of a terror than Shelley…”_

_The two sit in comfortable conversation, debating names, before Kyle meekly changes the conversation, blushing. “So, I met someone. Well, not met, we already knew her, but I should say, reconnected…”_

_“Oh, I know. Wendy told me. Heidi Turner, huh? I can’t think of two nicer people to be together.” Stan’s voice isn’t sad or envious, but the tone still makes Kyle quiet. “Hey,” Stan breaks the silence, “super best friends forever?”_

_“Super best friends forever.”_

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, you can call me your girlfriend if you really want,” Heidi said, putting the last dish in the cabinet. This was the Heidi Kyle liked the best, in sweatpants and her long chestnut hair in a braid. He had just finished telling her about the conversation with Stan at the park, glowing at the news. Kyle really liked kids despite having none of his own.

He crossed the kitchen to kiss her. “Really?”

Heidi smiled into the kiss before pulling back. “Really really. Why don’t you go sit down and get the movie ready?”

“Alright. Thanks for doing my dishes, honey.”

“You’re welcome, _honey_ ,” she teased as he sat on the over-stuffed loveseat his mother had bought him when he had graduated law school. He vaguely thought about retrieving his phone from the bedroom, but thought better of it. He really didn't need anything ruining the comfortable happiness he was currently basking in.

He scrolled through Netflix. Kyle tended to overthink these things - would a horror movie be too scary for Heidi? She seemed like a romcom kind of gal, but would that be too cheesy?

The best way to trick a psychic is to make them think to the bitter end you’re turning right and then turn left.

He felt the barrel against the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Kyle, I really am. He’s got my family and I -” Heidi sobbed. Kyle heard her click the safety off, and he closed his eyes.

“Cthulhu is one sick motherfucker, isn’t he?” Kyle said through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, they heard a deafening bam, and Kyle took advantage of the distraction. In one quick movement, he grabbed Heidi’s arm, directing the gun towards the wall and kicking her square into the stomach, making her lose her grip enough for Kyle to take the gun from her.

“Dude, why the fuck won’t you answer your phone?” Stan roared, running into the living room. He stopped still at the sight of Heidi clutching her torso up against the wall, and Kyle pointing the gun at her.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you.” Stan shivered at the ice in Kyle’s voice.

Heidi cried. “They have my family. I couldn’t - I’m sorry, I really do love you.” Her breathing quickened, and her face paled.

“Bullshit.” Kyle was shaking too hard to properly fire the gun - he had never been good at aiming things that didn’t shoot out of his eyes - and Stan took it from him.

“We don’t have time for this, dude. They have Tweek and Tucker.”

Kyle was silent for a minute before turning to Heidi. “If I ever see your face again, I’ll fucking kill you.” He grabbed Stan’s hand and pulled him towards the door.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Let me handle this.” The group of heroes looked at Butters with various degrees of uncertainty. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Butters slipped on his metal band - he had long ago forgone his tin foil helmet he wore as a child before the “incident”. This looked more like the simple tiara Kenny used to wear when he pretended to be a princess eons ago. He could feel his the energy around him vibrate at a higher frequency.

They descended the concrete stairs into the cool damp that was the Coon and Friends lair.

The Coon - in his ridiculous get up - sat at the table. “Oh, I didn’t know the whole gang was coming to our meeting,” the Coon said, obviously unnerved.

“Eric.” Butters pulled up a chair and sat down. “Why are you doing this to your friends? We may never see eye to eye, but we all accepted you - half of us even trusted you enough to join you.”

The Coon was taken aback before putting on an air. “Simple, Butters. Power. Power over everything. Cthulhu is going to make me ruler of the dimension.”

Butters lowered his eyes, looking at Cartman through his eyelashes. Two could play at the manipulation game. “I thought we were friends.” He leaned forward, meeting the Coon’s eyes. “How could you break our hearts like that?”

Suddenly it became clear to everyone in the room why Butters was so popular at the clubs.

The Coon blushed. “You’re not going to talk me out of all this.”

“Please, Eric, just tell us where they are.”

“No.”

“I don’t know how you could do this to Kenny of all people. You shared a body.”

“This isn’t going to work, Butters.”

“And as close as you are to your mother… How could you put Clyde through that? What if that had been your own mother crawling out of that bowl?”

“Stop. Just stop.” The Coon was already beginning to crack.

“You were in Tweek and Craig’s wedding. Even though they didn’t always like you, they knew you belonged with all of us.”

“There’s no point. I can take you there, but there’s no stopping it.” Cartman banged his fist on the table. “We’re all too far gone.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_It’s time, Timmy says into the white openess._

_Kenny sighs, the sound thin and vanishing. “Thank god.”_


	7. These violent delights have violent ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just had a small panic attack posting this, but it's okay, I did it, phew.
> 
> I made a Tumblr for general posting of things.
> 
> \- ask me questions  
> \- give me criticism  
> \- talk to me, I guess
> 
> BUT ALSO
> 
> If you want me to write something for you, let me know. I'm looking for drabbles to do. Not that I'm particularly anything to get excited about, but idk, i'll do it.
> 
> It's mediocrefanfics .
> 
> Thank you for all the support and nice comments and kudos <3 I appreciate you guys!

_“Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night;_

_Give me my Romeo; and, when I shall die,_

_Take him and cut him out in little stars,_

_And he will make the face of heaven so fine_

_That all the world will be in love with night...”_

_\- Juliet, "Romeo and Juliet", **William Shakespeare**_

It’s the warehouse on the barge. The same warehouse where Butters almost jumped into the flames - there’s still soot marks on siding. The energy is different this time, and it pulses with the currents of a dimensional portal.

The Coon stops at the entrance. The air smells like fish and in the distance they can hear the water lapping at the dock. The orange street lamps are the only light, and shadows, real and imagined, dance around them.

“Why the fuck are we stopping? This better not be a trap,” Craig says, clenching his fists.

"Yeah, guys, maybe trusting him isn't the best idea. Maybe we should go back." Token's voice sounds distant in his mechasuit.

"No," Butters breathes. "This is the right place."

The Coon begins to say something and then stops. He pushes open the door and looks away.

“Tweek?" Craig's voice cracks, and he stumbles inside. 

 Cthulhu’s sacrificial altar is lit with black candles, a purposeful streak of blood on the stone slab above them. Tweek’s body lies on the altar, draped across it limply. His face is empty and drained of any color except his blood-stained lips and the blue tips of his fingers.

He doesn’t know how he crosses the room, but he does, and takes Tweek up in his arms. Craig collapses on the ground and holds him. He grabs his hand and brings it up to his lips when he realizes Tweek is still wearing his wedding ring. 

Time has stopped. Craig knows he’s crying, but he can’t feel the tears. His fingers brush Tweek’s pale face and every moment of Tweek looking up at him since they were ten-years-old flashes through his mind.

Somewhere the thought that this is his fault swims in the back of Craig's head. If he had listened to Tweek, if he had just trusted him, he could've protected him.

Craig’s realizes there’s a knife at the foot of the altar. 

_Join him,_ a voice says. _Join him and your son, and you can live happily together in the next life._

**_Tweek desperately trying to convince him that they should take a risk with each other as children, his face heartbroken when Craig tells him to go be gay with someone else_ **

**_Tweek grabbing Craig’s hands, telling him it’ll be okay, the changes to their bodies are scary, the incident was scary, but they’ll make it through together. They’ll be freaks with super powers together._ **

_You’re meant to be together eternally, right? That's the promise you made to him._

**_Tweek in their dorm room, pushing the books aside and suggesting to Craig he get some of his stress out_ **

Craig leans over Tweek’s body and sobs.

**_Tweek on their wedding day, smiling up at Craig like they are the only people in the world_ **

**_Tweek singing Tucker to sleep, only to make Craig drift off himself, with his face buried in his soft blonde hair_ **

_Do it_ , the voice commands.

**_Tucker._ **

_You can be with him forever. Tucker is already dead, too. There’s no point in living on._

“I don’t believe you,” Craig whispers.

**_Kiss him._ **

This voice is different, softer, warmer. It sounds familiar.

Craig leans in and kisses his husband’s cold lips delicately, like Tweek will shatter in his arms at any moment.

He jerks up and then puts an ear to Tweek’s chest. There’s the sound of zapping and faint - very faint but very much there - beating. 

Craig stands up with Tweek in his arms and spins around to face the heroes, too shocked to notice how even Cartman’s face is wet with tears. "I think he's still alive."

“What?” Token lowers his mechasuit’s helmet and feels his pulse. “Holy shit, he’s alive. Barely, but he’s alive.”

“Can I heal him?” Kyle takes one of Tweek’s hands, even though he knows his powers aren't a match for the powerful poison that has already coursed through Tweek's veins. “Fuck. He’s too far gone.”

Craig turns to Token quickly, a look in his eyes Token reckons he hasn’t seen before in the many years he’s know Craig Tucker. “Token, you have to help me. Please. I have the tech, I just need you to tell me what goes where.”

Token begins to question him, but is cut off by Clyde. “Craig, don’t turn him into a monster.” The look Craig gives Clyde withers him, but he stands his ground. “I’ve seen what happens when you mess with this stuff. He won’t be the same Tweek.”

Craig looks like he’s about to destroy Clyde when instead he directs his gaze to the others. “Find our baby. He’s alive somewhere in here.” Craig looks down at his husband. “Please. Stan, you’re a father, right? You have to understand.”

“You don’t have to beg us,” Stan says. “We’ll do everything in our power to save Tucker. We promise.”

“We’re going to have to get him to the lab soon, Craig. He’s restarting his heart and, I hope, forcing electrical impulses to his brain, but he won’t be able to do it for much longer,” Token says in a voice he only ever uses above stretchers and operating tables.

“Go,” Kyle urges. “We’ll handle the rest.” He throws Token his car keys.

They run out of the warehouse, Craig clutching Tweek to his chest.

Kyle prays for the first time in a long time.

“Let’s keep moving. We have a promise to keep,” Stan says, nodding towards the corner where the walls narrow into a tunnel.

 

With the Coon leading the way, their footsteps echo along the passageway. Kyle looks up at the stalagmites above them, dripping something green and viscous. “This is fucking gross,” he says quietly, and Stan hums in agreement.

Kyle takes a mental count. There’s him, and he likes to think he’s a capable enough fighter.

There’s Stan, his gadgets strapped to him by a shoulder rig of sorts. He would look like a Miami Vice actor if it weren’t for goggles of his own design - indestructible but feather light. Stan is a good at maximum impact attacks, not to mention the powerful bombs the size of coins he keeps on him.

Kyle looks back at Fast Pass, who shoots him a tentative smile, the click of his crutches echoing of the wall. He and Scott are keeping mostly quiet during this mission, which Kyle thinks is pretty wise of them. Jimmy is powerful - Kyle enjoys the look on criminals’ faces when Fast Pass bowls them over. He’ll be good for sneak attacks.

Scott is looking around, clearly frightened. Kyle can’t stand him or his attempts at a friendship. Diabetes is not a platform for bonding. Kyle knows, though, once a battle begins, it’s like a switch flips, and Captain will be one of the most physically strong and angry people there. Not as strong (or as angry) as Craig, but a good enough backup.

Speaking of changing personalities, Butters doesn’t even sense Kyle staring at him. He’s baby-faced even in his early thirties, but Butters is great at adapting to situations - sometimes, too great. His face is fixed in concentration, fiddling with a blade that doesn’t cut his fingers, and Kyle can faintly see the bulge of the firearms he’s upgraded underneath his shirt. Butters is capable of devastating everything in his path, and Kyle is well-aware there’s a chance he’ll lose control once he sees what remains of Kenny.

Clyde is trailing in the back, wiping his eyes. His fangs are already starting to protrude, anticipating the danger ahead. Clyde isn’t very bright, but he’s effective enough - if not completely disgusting, Kyle thinks. He seems distracted, and Kyle knows he’s too busy with what he feels is his friends’ betrayal to be helpful. Leave it to short-sighted Clyde to be that way.

And then there’s the Coon. Kyle’s eyes narrow. It doesn’t feel like a trick, as far as his sixth senses can reach, but he hasn’t redeemed himself yet completely. Kyle decides not to even bother counting him in.

 

They hear laughter - if that’s what it could be called. It’s rapturous and evil. The heroes slow as a feeling of dread washes over them, the same feeling they had felt many years ago when they first faced him.

They press on and enter the chamber. Cthulhu sits on a throne of twisted black wood, like some demonic sea creature towering over them. Across the room is the mysterious bowl Clyde described, and below it on the stone floor lies Tucker, the little boy in such a deep sleep Kyle’s heart stops for a second before he realizes he can see the rise and fall of his chest. The way the child doesn’t stir, though, tells Kyle it’s not a natural sleep.

He almost misses him amongst the giant tentacles, but when Kyle sees Kenny tears prick his eyes. He’s chained to the monster, leaning weakly on his knees against the throne. Kenny is skeletal, the dark circles under his eyes making him look like death itself.

Kyle can hear the shuddering breath Butters takes.

Cthulhu yanks the chain, sending Kenny backwards choking.

Butters yells and pulls out on of his ray guns from underneath his shirt, firing two or three times. He ceases, realizing it didn’t do anything as the shots of energy dissolve against the monster’s brown flesh.

Cthulhu laughs, whipping the chain around and dragging Kenny out in front of him. Kenny struggles to get up but falls. “Is this what has you all riled up?”

Kyle notices the chain is glowing with the runes around the bowl, and something in Butters’s face tells him he noticed, too.

“I don’t know how, but Kenny and the bowl are connected. The bowl is like, like a sponge for everyone’s misery. He’s been forcing Kenny to give up his energy to it, and then it absorbs emotions and souls. It’s -” Cartman falls to the ground, his rotund body rolling over in pain.

“That’s enough out of you. Did you forget you pledged yourself to me? You’re no better than this worthless piece of trash.” The chain flashes, and Kenny cries out in pain. “The only difference is his soul is a part of me - not that that all of yours won’t belong to me in a short while.”

Cthulhu drags a tentacle across his face as if stroking its chin. “I guess the little blonde bitch and that fool escaped. No matter, I have ways of getting control of them again.”

Cthulhu lifts up a huge tentacle and slams it down, all the heroes scattering instinctively. Kyle rolls across the floor, and then focuses his lasers on the tentacle, in attempt to cut it off. He groans as it doesn’t do any damage.

The creature swings another tentacle down, and Kyle hears one of the heroes cry out. His eyes land on Tucker, still sleeping on the other side of the room.

“Fast Pass!” he roars over the sound of the ground trembling. “Tucker!”

The child is suddenly slung over Jimmy’s shoulders. He disappears, only to be blocked by a sudden tentacle blocking the tunnel entrance. “Fu- fuck!” He looks around wildly and then vanishes again. Kyle realizes he’s begun to move constantly the room, effectively becoming invisible. It’s not going to defeat Cthulhu, but it’s the best way to protect Tucker in this situation.

Butters lands near the throne, close enough for his eyes to meet Kenny’s. They’re now a cloudy blue, but the determined gaze reminds Butters of the way Kenny looked at him the day he saved him from the flames.

“Stan!” Butters yells, hoping Stan can hear him somewhere in the commotion. “Your lighter!”

“I don’t think right now is a great time to -” Stan dodges a tentacle “- for a smoke break.”

“Shut up and just trust me!”

Stan takes the lighter out of his pocket and tosses it up in the air. Butters’s magnetic powers draw it to his hand.

_There’s got to be something flammable around here_ , Butters thinks, eyes scanning the room rapidly.

He crawls his way to the corner between the throne and the wall, where he guesses it’ll be unlikely that Cthulhu will hit him while keeping a strategic proximity to Kenny. An inter-dimensional creature’s evil lair, though, is annoyingly up to fire code.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - “ Then it hits Butters. “Stan!”

“WHAT?” he yells as he throws himself and Kyle out of the way.

“Do you have your flask?” Stan looks at him in confusion before Butters watches it dawn on his face.

“You can run all you want like little rats, but I have you all trapped. Give up and join me.” Cthulhu roars, picking up speed and force.

Stan grabs the flask from his back pocket. (“Dude, really?” Kyle yells before shooting himself up into the air to avoid another attack. "It's for emergencies!" Stan counters.)

Butters is grateful Stan is bougie enough to buy an all-metal flask as it thumps into his hand.

“What’s in here?!”

“I don’t know! Something Uncle Jimbo made!”

“Perfect,” Butters says to himself. He holds it up, whistling low, and it disappears from his hand, the slightest of breezes the only indication Fast Pass has taken it.

“Everyone, get away from the throne as far as you can!” he yells, his voice thick with emotions.

His eyes meet Kenny’s once again, and Butters realizes how flawed this plan really is, and this might be his last time to utter the words he had spent fifteen years hating himself for saying.

“I love you,” he chokes.

“I know,” Kenny says, and Butters throws the lighter at him, his magnetism flicking it on mid-air.

Kenny’s form is obscured by flames, but they can still hear his cries as he burns. Butters covers his mouth and has to remind himself this will free Kenny.

The attacks stop for a second as Cthulhu moans in pain. It turns into his mocking laughter. “You fools, only an immortal can kill an immortal. His soul still exists in me.”

“But that’s a lie, right?” Kyle asks even though his gaze is focused on Butters and not the creature. “Kenny can control his own soul, but you had it trapped in his body. Which was convenient because you could use your powers to clone the darkness that exists in him and take his form - his possessiveness of the ones he loves, his problem with lust.” Kyle’s voice gets louder as he pieces it all together. “Butters just destroyed your vessel for his soul. One of them at least,” Kyle mutters, eyes staring at Kenny’s smoldering body and the chain that held him captive, no longer glowing.

“Kyle!” Stan screams, but it’s too late. His body thuds painfully against the stone wall and falls to the floor motionless like rag doll.

Cthulhu’s laugh rumbles like thunder. “He was just a bonus. I am plenty powerful on my own.” He brushes Kenny’s burning body off the throne with a tentacle. The smell is overwhelming, and everyone avoids looking at it as his ribs split open. “All you’ve done is effectively doomed your friend. If you haven’t noticed, we’re in another dimension. He can control his soul, but he can’t travel dimension to dimension without a tie to a physical form.”

Butters narrows his eyes. “Why don’t you just worry about yourself and we’ll worry about that. Ready, Stan?”

“Ready!” Stan shouts, pushing a button on his leather belt. The bowl in the middle of the throne explodes, and Cthulhu roars.

“Our running around was just a distraction, you bastard!” Stan yells as he makes his way to Kyle.

Steam raises up off of Cthlhu’s body, acrid and thick.

“Kyle,” Stan calls quietly. His best friend is still breathing, but it looks painful, as if he’s broken a rib or two. His mouth is covered with blood. Stan feels his stomach drop. Kyle has never been the physically healthiest, with Type 1 diabetes and a compromised immune system from an organ transplant. He’s obviously had a huge blow to the head, and Stan knows he needs to get to a hospital as quickly as possible because of the likely brain damage.

“Scott!” Butters shouts. “Now’s your time to shine!”

The Captain riles up and lands a powerful hit right into Cthulhu’s center. The punch is so strong the sound reverberates through the lair.

The creature howls. “I’ll be back,” it threatens. “And I’ll destroy everything you love.”

With a pop, it disappears, and the heroes take a deep breath as the energy in the room lightens. Fast Pass stops running, and the Captain takes Tucker of his shoulders.

The boy is awake now and is crying with the same ear-splitting screech he was making when they found him. It makes Stan’s stomach twist in an odd way that he forces himself to brush off.

Suddenly there’s a flash of light, and they all gasp.

“Timmy!” Their leader appears, sitting on the floor sans wheelchair.

“Where have you been?!” Scott asks, eyes wide. “You left us!”

“He didn’t,” Butters explains. “Timmy knew he couldn’t take Cthulhu on completely, but he’d be the one the asshole would go after first. So he sent himself to hide in a pocket dimension. He’s the one who helped Kenny communicate with me. If it weren’t for him, there’s no way we could’ve pulled this off.”

Clyde picks Timmy up on his shoulders. “You were the one who made me not to take my... mom’s hand, weren’t you?”

“Timmy!”

“And the one who helped Craig figure out Tweek is alive?” Scott asks, wide-eyed.

“Timmy!”

“As glad as I am to see you, Timmy, we have to get Kyle to a hospital.” Stan’s voice is urgent enough to get everyone’s full attention.

“You guys go on ahead,” Butters urges. “I have something I need to do.”

Everyone looks at him, their faces falling.

“Butters, I am so sorry,” Stan says softly, the threat of tears forming in his eyes. “If you need time to mourn him -”

“No.” The Coon stands up, his face bloody. Butters feels satisfaction in knowing that Cartman won’t be walking away from here uninjured. “Let me do it, Butters.”

“Absolutely not, Eric.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a horrible feeling. You’ll never feel like yourself.” There is a pleading tone to Cartman’s voice that catches them all off guard. “Let me do it. This is my fault.”

“What is he talking about?” Clyde asks, his eyes darting from the Coon to Butters.

“Oh, no.” It finally comes to Stan. “Oh, no, no, that’s fucked up,” he says as he starts to exit the chamber, remembering his super best friend is in dire need of medical attention.

“Do you want Kenny back or not?” Butters says defensively.

“It might be the only way,” Timmy says telepathically.

Stan only looks at them before disappearing into the tunnel.

“Do- do what you ne-need to do.” Jimmy gives Butters a warm look, before following Stan with the others.

The Coon is still standing there, but Butters shakes his head. He knows better than anyone by the look in Butters’s eyes, there is no convincing him otherwise.

Butters kneels down and drags a fingertip through his lover’s ashes. His skeleton is still mostly intact, but as far as Butters’s knows, he only has to consume a little.

“Never that far from me, huh?” he says, bringing his fingers to his lips.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bebe rolled her shoulders, feeling herself tense up subconsciously. “Clyde still won’t speak to Craig or Token. I really hoped once all of this was resolved, he’d go back to being friends with them, but… I guess not.”

“Yeah, what’s his damage? I’m just as worried that Tweek won’t be.. normal, but if it’s what Craig had to do…” Wendy said, waddling down the park path.

Bebe shook her head. “I think what happened in that lair scared him. ‘Inhumane’ is the word he used with me.”

“And Craig still hasn’t… woken him up?” Wendy almost said “turned his switch on”, but thought better of it.

“No, but he and Token spent 18 hours straight working on the organs that shut down, and he’s stable. In the end they had to replace a lot more than they thought. The poison had even seeped to his eyeballs and started making parts of his skin decay.” Bebe shivered. “Token said he was well into septic shock.” She pulled her peacoat closed against the chilly wind. “Craig will never admit it, but I think he’s just as afraid as Clyde.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Craig looks over his husband. His bare chest is almost as white as the sheet covering him, and Craig traces the shape of his mouth with his fingertips. He and Token did a good job - the scars that curve around Tweek's body are faint, though Craig worries how he'll react to the one that crosses his face. Craig hopes once Tweek opens his eyes, they'll still look the same._

_He's willing to do anything to hear his voice again, but he can’t bring himself to push that button hidden within the back of Tweek's neck._

_Craig has nightmares that leave him gasping for breath every other night of Tweek crawling out of the lab like Clyde described his mother climbing out of the bowl. He knows it’s silly. This is science, and that was… not._

_Craig just can’t shake the feeling if this goes wrong - if the Tweek that awakens is just a shadow of the man that once was - then it would’ve been better just to let him slip away._

_His thoughts are interrupted by Tricia, who appears in the doorway with Tucker on her hips._

_He shakes his head and sweeps across the room, with that loping grace he has._

_Craig ushers them out of the impromptu operating room. The last thing he wants is Tucker to see Tweek like that._

_“Craig, you’ve got to do something. You -”_

_Craig gives her a look that quietens her, and he regrets it instantly. Tricia had been kind enough to move in to help with Tucker, but Craig finds himself taking out his emotions on her._

_The little boy reaches for his father, and Craig eagerly takes him._

_Tucker has dark brown eyes - so dark the pupils are almost indecipherable, nothing like either one of his fathers’ eyes. Craig is well aware they don’t share genetics, but for a second, the toddler’s lopsided grin is identical to Tweek’s._

_“Tomorrow,” he tells Tricia softly._

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bebe took Wendy’s hand to help her across the slick pebbles. “Are you sure we shouldn’t have taken a taxi?” she asked, watching Wendy place her hand on her back and stretch it.

“Yes! I’m fine. I needed some air. I stand by my decision to move back in for Stan after what’s going on with Kyle, but he’s been insufferable lately.” 

“So Ike’s gonna stay down here and take care of him?” Bebe asked, tilting her head in interest.

“Yep. Until he gets his memory back. His motor functions are getting better pretty quickly, even though he still shakes really bad,” Wendy said. “Stan isn’t taking it very well.”

She put a hand on her stomach, and Bebe instinctively threw an arm around her. “Stan loves you, Wendy. He married you. I mean, this baby wasn’t exactly an oopsie - why would he agree to have a kid with you if he didn’t love you?”

Wendy smiled at her, but it seemed hollow. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_“I’m sorry,” Kyle says softly. “I know it hurts you, but I just can’t … I don’t know who you are.” He takes a shaky hand and brushes Stan’s face like a child discovering something new._

_Stan realizes he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve again, and he straightens his face._

_On the hospital bed in Kyle’s lap are what seems like a thousand photos. His mother brought them in boxes and went through each one, pointing out his bubbe and other various relatives. Kyle can remember weird details - like where they ate after his high school graduation and Stan’s childhood dog’s name - but not the people who love him most._

_“It’s okay,” Stan says, fighting the urge to take his hand in his. Instead he picks up a photo, bent and maybe even a little faded. He smiles at it and shows it to Kyle. It’s them on their last day of the fourth grade. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. Kenny was still in the habit of covering his face those days, but he’s almost in mid-motion, like he just finished dancing one of his little dances he used to do. Cartman was smiling angelically._

_Stan felt his insides sour. He still hasn’t forgiven him, though he hears through the grapevine Butters slash Kenny still meets with him. “Bunny” Karen calls them good naturedly._

_“Do you remember who these people are?”_

_His hair is obscured by his green ushanka, but Kyle thankfully can identify himself. “I remember that hat. This has to be you,” he says, pointing to Stan. “I guess you’ve always been handsome.”_

_The way he says it is devoid of any flirtiness, but Stan still feels his face flush. He brushes it off with a shrug and a smile. He taps the little boy in the orange parka. “Do you know who that is?”_

_Kyle’s brows scrunch in concentration. “I can remember the parka. He… used to give me little paper cranes?”_

_Stan laughs. “Yeah, he was forever folding those and giving them to us. That’s Kenny. He’s … gone right now, but he’s okay. Maybe he can visit you soon. How about this fatass?”_

_Kyle looks up at Stan and smiles. “I can tell by the way you pointed him out we share the same negative feelings about him. But no, I don’t remember who he is.”_

_The desk nurse knocks on the door politely. “Mr. Broflovski, you have another visitor.”_

_Kyle looks at her wide-eyed. He still has trouble sometimes when something new comes into his environment._

_“Yeah, that’s fine. The more people he can see, the better he’ll get, right?” The nurse smiles at Stan meekly and tells them the visitor will be right up._

_Stan is telling Kyle about the time they got stranded in Peru with Craig when she appears at the door._

_“What the fuck are you doing here?” Stan stands up._

_Heidi crosses her arms, shrinking back a little, but doesn’t look away from Stan’s glare. “I can explain.”_

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wendy and Bebe arrived at the apartment complex. Kenny lived on an okay side of town, and the building was one of the nicer ones on the block, a big step up from where he grew up.

His door was on the first floor, accessible from the outside, so Bebe knocked raptly.

“Wait,” Wendy hissed. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Ready? Wendy, they’re still the people you’ve always known. They just.. share the same body.” Bebe shrugged and put on her best smile for when Karen opened the door.

Karen hugged them before inviting the girls in. “I hope you two know that I didn’t just run away. Butters told me I should go as soon as a I could, so I just thought…”

Bebe held up a hand. “Hey, girl, you saved yourself. No need for apologies.”

Karen grinned the same goofy grin Kenny had. His apartment was surprisingly neat, probably more Karen’s effort than his. It was sparsely decorated except for a few framed photos of faces Wendy and Bebe had known for years.

They could still see Tweek’s blood stains.

She led them into the kitchen where there was a dinette table. Butters sat with his half his face buried in his arms in a boyish way that wasn't his, watching Kenny’s pet rat Algernon eat a treat.

“I thought you were terrified of Algernon,” teased Bebe, taking a seat next to him. Wendy envied the way Bebe made herself feel comfortable no matter the situation. Bebe said it was a byproduct of her job.

“Mmmm… I am, but someone has to feed him, and Karen won’t.” Butters sounded like the same old Butters, chirpy and sunshiney.

Karen stuck her tongue out at him.

There was a beat of silence as the girls tried to figure out how to address the extra soul in the room.

“So, uh… Kenny? Is the … fire department not missing you?” Bebe scrunched up her face.

“He said they let him go because they thought he needed a mental health break.” Butters looked up at Bebe, and for second she thought his eyes seemed a little more almond and mischievous than before.

“No, Kenny! I’m not going to be a firefighter. That won’t be good for anyone, pal.”

“Will… will there be a time when Kenny has his own body?” Wendy asked and Bebe shot her a look.

Butters smiled. “Kenny thinks there will. At some point his old body regenerated when Cartman swallowed him. He said it’s tentative for the minute, though, because this… arrangement or whatever lets him travel through dimensions easier, and he wants to kill Cthulhu once and for all.”

Wendy shuddered. “Wouldn’t it be best to just leave him alone?”

Butters shook his head and focused his eyes on Algernon again. “Oh no, he’ll be back. And he’ll be stronger.”


End file.
